


Will You Take My Hand

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Hermione Granger Bashing, Hermione disapproves, M/M, OK., Resorting, Ron Weasley Bashing, Slytherin Harry Potter, The Sorting Hat, also, basically it’s a resorting fic, but it’s fine don’t worry, but like, but not really, i guess, its sorta the same as with ron, mostly him bashing them tbh, ok?, you get it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-28 07:04:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17178185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After one Slytherin does the unthinkable and transfers to a new house, Dumbledore realizes that students shouldn’t be accountable for the mindsets of their eleven year old selves... and hosts a school wide resorting. How will this affect the relationships and the day to day lives of the students? Can Harry win the trust of his new housemates? Can he keep the trust of his friends?





	1. In Which Draco Basically Just Smirks a Lot

**Author's Note:**

> Although this is marked as completed at the moment, it’s actually a work in progress as I couldn’t figure out how to fix that on my phone.

As Harry entered the great hall, Ron and Hermione at his side, he couldn’t help but feel at home. After surviving the horror after the quidditch match he had seen with the Weasley’s, he felt he deserved to have a quiet year where he could focus on his studies. Well, relax with the other Gryffindors more than study, he supposed. But his theory still stood. 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione took their seats at the Gryffindor table, on the side facing the wall. Ron was impatiently awaiting the food while Hermione berated him for it. Harry smiled affectionately, but couldn’t resist turning his head towards the Slytherin table, looking for a certain blond snake. He huffed when he caught sight of him. How someone could manage to look haughty from the back, Harry wasn’t sure, but it sure did bother him. As Harry continued to stare, Malfoy turned his head and met his eyes with a knowing smirk. After a moment he looked pointedly at Dumbledore. With a start, Harry realized that the headmaster had already begun the welcome speech.

“I know you all want to eat after your long train ride. I must admit I’m famished as well. So I’ll try and keep this speech fairly short. As you all know, your housemates are like family. You’ve gone through these past years with them at your side, and I hope this will not change for the support of a family is often all we have to keep us going. But even so, it is true that as people age and gain different experiences, those people change. All of our older students can attest, we are not the same people we once were as eleven year olds. One Slytherin, Daphne Greengrass, embodies this change that has taken place within many of us. She feels that she does not share the same outlook with her housemates and feels she may fit better within a different house. She has requested to be resorted. Our staff has taken this to heart. We will sort our first years first, and as I know everyone wants to get eating, a full resort of all students Year 4 and above will take place after the feast.” Dumbledore sat down.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other dumbfounded, ignoring the first years that were being sorted one by one. But Ron seemed to have quickly gotten over the shock.

“Don’t worry guys, you two are Gryffindors if I ever saw one. We won’t be split up,” Ron said confidently. Harry nodded, although he wasn’t too sure himself. 

“Of course we won’t, none of us three have changed enough to lose that,” Hermione agreed slowly.

They sat through the sorting of the first years, watching politely as they made their way to their respective tables. When the last first year was sorted Dumbledore stood up once more.

“I have a few more quick announcements to make. We have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professer Alastor Moody. And our school will be hosting a Triwizard Tournament this year, which any witch or wizard who is of age may attempt to enter.” He gestures towards the burning flame with a circle drawn around it. “Now without any further adieu, dig in!”

With that, copious amounts of food appeared suddenly on the tables. Ron immediately began loading his plate up with mashed potatoes. Harry didn’t know which to exclaim about first, the Triwizard Tournament or the resorting. Fortunately, Ron beat him to the chase.

“We should totally try and get past that line” Ron’s eyes were glittering, “one of us could totally win.”

Hermione looked at him disapprovingly, but it was clear her heart wasn’t in it. She seemed nervous although she didn’t seem about to admit it.

The feast seemed to last forever, longer than usual since Harry was anxiously awaiting its end. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Dumbledore clinked a spoon to a glass with an amused look in his eye.

“Feel free to continue eating, I wouldn’t want any of this delicious food to go to waste. But I think it’s about time we begin the resort. Why don’t we start with Daphne Greengrass, as it’s thanks to this lovely young witch that we have this opportunity.” 

Daphne stood up, looking uncomfortable, and made her way to the stool. As the hat was placed on her head Harry could see her mouthing “Not Slytherin” over and over and was reminded of a time when a young boy had been repeating the same mantra on his sorting day. 

“HUFFLEPUFF” the hat shouted after some consideration. Daphne positively beamed with relief as she moved to join her new housemates, who cheered happily for her. 

As more and more students were sorted, Harry began to relax. It was rare for a student to switch houses and more often than not, there was no change. 

When it was Hermione’s turn came, she sat on the stool for what seemed an eternity. The silence stretched on as her face slowly reddened.

“GRYFINDOR” the hat shouted and Hermione walked back to the table, looking proud and relieved. 

“It wanted me in Ravenclaw,” she whispered to Harry, who wasn’t surprised at all. 

The sorting of the Weasleys went off without a hitch, all of them heading back to Gryffindor almost as soon as the hat had touched their heads. Harry smiled as all of his friends made their way back to the table one by one. If no one else seemed to be leaving Gryffindor, he had no reason to believe that he would be either.

By the time his name was called, he had talked himself out of all worry. He smiled at his housemates as he walked past them and confidently made his way up to the stool. He sat down quickly and the hat was placed immediately onto his head.

“Ooh, Harry Potter, I remember I remember. I stand by what I said, you’d do well in Slytherin. It’s not too late to remedy this” the hat whispered. 

“No” Harry whispered but to no avail.

After not even ten seconds of thought the hat yelled “SLYTHERIN” for all the great hall to hear. Harry opened his eyes which he had unconsciously squeezed tightly shut. He was filled with sheer panic as he was met by the blank and shocked faces of his peers. 

The Gryffindors looked horrified, while the other houses seemed merely surprised. Involuntarily, Harry saught Malfoy our in the crowd. He had assumed a sort of disbelieving yet still somehow smug smirk. 

Harry gulped and got jerkily to his feet. He began his walk on autopilot, feeling as if he were taking his last breaths before approaching the gallows. 

He took the first empty seat he came across, which was unfortunately diagonally across from the blond git who was apparently now his housemate. Malfoy kept looking at him all throughout the rest of the sorting, almost like he didn’t believe it had happened and he needed to keep checking Harry was there to remind himself. Harry could understand that, hardly believing it himself.

As soon as the last student was sorted, Harry jumped up and practically bolted towards the Gryffindors, needing to talk to Ron and Hermione. 

“This must have been some sort of mistake, mate!” Ron practically shouted, eyes bulging when he saw Harry. 

“I know!” Harry agreed, “I can’t be a Slytherin! Maybe Dumbledore will say it was all a mistake and everything can go back to normal?”

Hermione gave him a sad look, “I doubt it Harry, the hat hasn’t been known to make a mistake, well, ever.” 

As soon as Hermione finished her sentence Harry heard a pointed cough from behind him. He whipped around to find a wand pointed at his chest by none other than Draco Malfoy. In an instant Ron and Hermione were at his sides as he fumbled to pull out his own wand. 

“No need to overreact,” Malfoy chuckled menacingly before flicking his wrist casually in Harry’s direction. He looked down just in time to see his Gryffindor crest fading from red to Slytherin green. Malfoy pocketed his wand and looked at the trio in their defensive position with an air of superiority. He then turned and walked away without another word.

“Bloody hell,” Ron said staring after him in fury.

Malfoy suddenly stopped, “Potter I’d suggest following if you ever hope to know the password,” he said without turning around. He then continued walking briskly, not bothering to check that Harry had heard. Harry looked at his friends in exasperation before following after him.

After Harry had been trailing Malfoy and his merry crew for maybe thirty seconds, he glanced back, finally deigning to find out if Harry had followed. He seemed to hold himself straighter when he realized that he had and continued to lead the way.


	2. In Which Harry Feels Ignored

Harry awoke to green hued light dancing through the room and thought vaguely that he might think it beautiful if he wasn't so bloody tired. He rolled over, burying his face in his soft pillow. He couldn't recall ever having bedding as comfortable as this. For that matter, he couldn't recall any reason for the Gryffindor dormitories to have green lighting. He sat bolt upright suddenly, the memories of yesterday coming back all at once.

He clambered out of bed and reached groggily for his robes to pull on. It occurred to him that behind each of these closed sets of curtains, there was a Slytherin lurking. Or sleeping more likely. but just because he was a Slytherin now didn't mean h couldn't recognize them for the shifty folk they were. He pulled his robes down over his head and jumped slightly when Zabini poked his head out from between two curtains. 

"Potter," he nodded stiffly, "I never thought I'd see the day you wore Slytherin green." Harry nodded back at him, equally stiffly, but didn't respond. He was sure he would be receiving plenty of snide comments and glares from his housemates and he had prepared himself to deal with it. It was going to be a right pain in the arse to have to suffer these utter gits on an even more frequent basis. Especially Malfoy, with his endless supply of snark and seemingly inexhaustible reserves of annoying facial expressions, ranging from smug to haughty. Yes, he'd certainly be the worst to deal with, the loudest protestor of Harry's house reassignment. Out of everyone in the school, Malfoy was certainly the most dedicated to making Harry's life a living hell.

Which is why Harry isn't at all disappointed when he's ignored- Yes, totally ignored- by Malfoy and by the other Slytherins. Aside from Zabini's remark that morning, not a single Slytherin had spoken to him. Malfoy hadn't even risen to he bait when Harry tried to incite an argument, just for the sake of getting acknowledged. Malfoy had simply given him disappointed look after hearing the insult tossed his way, and pretended nothing had happened.

But like Harry said, he wasn't upset. Besides, even if he had been, they had double potions with the Gryffindors before lunch, so he had a chance to fix this little issue. It wasn't that he wanted to talk to Malfoy or the other Slytherins, he reasoned to himself as he crossed the threshold into the potions classroom, it was just that his life would be a whole lot easier if very single one of his roommates wasn't pretending he didn't exist.

Out of habit, he headed towards the half of the classroom where the Gryffindors were seated. He only caught himself and swerved to the left after catching the look on Hermione's face. Harry tossed his things onto the nearest empty area and plopped heavily into the seat. It was only when the person next to him leaned slightly away that Harry noticed who he had sat down next to. Of course it was Malfoy, why wouldn't it be. Harry watched in exasperation as Malfoy carefully clasped his hands together on the desk and very pointedly looked towards the door, where Snape was just walking in.

Snape stood at the front of the room for a moment, scanning the faces of the students until he landed on Harry. His face didn't change, but Harry could tell that he didn't know what to make of Harry and Malfoy sitting next to each other, albeit uncomfortably. 

Quickly getting over Harry's change in seat, he swept his way to the front of the classroom, "A lot of this year's curriculum will be focused on the theory behind potions, but for today I ask you all to choose a potion to brew from his year's textbook so I can judge the level of incompetence I will have to deal with," he gazed pointedly at the Gryffindor side of the room and Harry hear distinct chuckling from the Slytherins who surrounded them, "You'll partner with your deskmates. And Potter. Don't expect any special treatment just because you're now a part of my house. In fact, being your head of house, it simply means there'll be no need to go through Professor McGonagall if I see fit to punish you."

Harry gulped but nodded, not having any other way to respond to the situation. He met Ron's sympathetic gaze from across the room before turning to face forward again. Snape had settle himself behind his desk where he was now engrossed in a book.

Resigned, Harry turned to Malfoy, who was poring over the textbook, presumably looking for a suitable potion. 

"Which one are you thinking," Harry asked. But Malfoy merely looked at him before standing to go grab the necessary ingredients. Harry watched him go, feeling affronted. Was Malfoy too good to even speak to him now?

"What are we brewing?" Harry said forcefully as Malfoy approached, arms full of ingredients. He glared at Harry as he placed them on their table, lining them up neatly. He then shoved the open book towards Harry mutely and got to work chopping some sort of leaf. So that's how this was going to be. Malfoy was going to be all immature and not speak to him. Well, two could play at that game. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After almost an hour of sitting silently next to Malfoy, Harry was distinctly uncomfortable. Their potion was coming along surprisingly nicely as they worked efficiently towards completing it. Malfoy would prepare an ingredient before passing it along to Harry who would add it to the cauldron with the appropriate amount of stirs or adjustment in temperature. Harry had to admit that it was good to work with someone who was naturally adept at potions, even if this someone was currently pretending he didn't exist. 

With a final stir, he completed the potion and watched as it went rom grey to dark blue, exactly as the textbook had said it would. Quickly, Malfoy filled a vial with the liquid before shoving it into Harry's hands and beginning to clear up the workspace. Harry took the vial and made his way to the front of the classroom where the other students were lined up to hand in their potions. He saw with vague amusement that Ron's vial appeared to be smoking as he held it out and away from his face. He also noticed that most of the other Gryffindors really hadn't fared any better, while the Slytherin's potions at least partly resembled what they were supposed to be.

Shrugging internally, he handed his vial to Snape, who scrutinized it with an expression that came close to resembling approval before tucking it into his pocket. Snape dismissed the class just as he got back to his seat, so he gabbed his bag and ran to catch up with Ron and Hermione.

"Harry! Why'd you sit with Malfoy?" Ron asked as soon as he saw Harry.

"I dunno," Harry responded defensively, "I just chucked my stuff at the first empty seat."

"Bad luck, then," Hermione replied, Ron nodding.

"Well, it wouldn't have been so bad if he didn't ignore me the whole time. He hasn't said a word to me since yesterday!" Harry exclaimed.

"You mean it's a bad thing that he hasn't spoken to you or argued with you or been a git to you?" Ron asked incredulously.

"He HAS been a git! He-"

"The point Ron's trying to make, Harry, is that this is rather an improvement from being at each others throats. Don't you think so?" Hermione said diplomatically.

"No!" Harry responded immediately, "It isn't at all. In fact I'm going to talk to him later. Maybe if I provoke him enough he'll acknowledge me before I go mad."

"Oh that's a great plan," Ron said sarcastically, "Picking a fight with MALFOY. On PURPOSE. Good luck, mate."

"It IS a great plan," Harry insisted. Hermione just shook her head, looking like she couldn't believe she hung around with people this immature.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry sat on a couch in the Slytherin common room, where he had headed straight aftter he finished his classes. He had a half written essay set out in front of him, which he was pretending to be working on. In reality, he was keeping track of Malfoy's movements, waiting for an opportunity to corner him. He and a few other Slytherins were lounging about the common room, some doing homework or playing chess, but mostly just talking.

Malfoy himself was sprawled across a couch on the other side of the room. He was surrounded by Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini, a rather predictable crowd if you asked Harry. Harry was trying not to stare, at least in too obvious of a manner, but he could tell he wasn't succeeding by the way his gaze kept meeting Malfoy's.

With a start, he noticed that Malfoy was getting up and was making his way purposefully across the room in what seem to be Harry's direction. Not looking Harry in the face, Malfoy grabbed him by the wrist as he passed, effectively hauling him to his feet and dragging him. He tugged them into the bathroom, dropping Harry's wrist and closing the door as he did so. Then, he turned around and finally met Harry's gaze properly.

"What do you want, Potter?" he hissed. Harry spluttered, unprepared, and Malfoy huffed, seeing that an answer was not forthcoming, "I thought even you would be able to take a hint this obvious, but I guess I was wrong. Why in Merlin's name have you been following me around like a lost puppy?"

"You were ignoring me!" Harry snapped, not knowing what else to say. Malfoy stared for a second in exasperated disbelief.

"We were all ignoring you! Not just me, all the Slytherins were! Did you not notice that?"

"Of course I noticed, but I never talked to them anyway, so what should that matter?"

"If you hadn't noticed, I don't talk to you either. Because we aren't friends!"

"No, we aren't, but we did talk. Or, well, er. Argued, I suppose," said Harry, suddenly embarrassed. 

"Yes. Argued. Are you really telling me you miss that?" Harry didn't answer, "Oh Merlin, you really are!" Malfoy let out a mall disbelieving laugh and Harry felt his cheeks light up in embarrassment. He still didn't do anything, just waiting for Malfoy to say what he was going to say.

"Alright, Potter. I won't ignore you. But how," he wrinkled his nose before continuing, " 'civil' we are all depends on what happens at dinner tonight." He turned and opened the bathroom door, making as if to sweep through the doorway.

"What's at dinner?" Harry asked, finally plucking up the courage to speak. Malfoy turned his head and met his gaze, lips turning up in a very obvious smirk.

"Just the chance to right a wrong from first year. Call me what you will, but I need this to happen if we're to be friends," and with that he closed the door behind him, leaving Harry to stand alone in the bathroom. He wanted to be angry at how little control he had had over the conversation, it was the one he had been planning for after all. But all he could think about was Malfoy referring to him as a potential friend and the conflicting feelings that had evoked.


	3. In Which Malfoy Carries Out His Plan

Harry walked into the great hall, trying to appear more confident than he felt. He was buzzing with nerves, but he wouldn’t let Malfoy have the satisfaction of knowing that the uncertainty had gotten to him. So he held his chin high and briskly entered the room.

Immediately, Hermione caught his eye and excitedly waved him over.

“Harry, there isn’t technically a rule against straying from your houses table, but just to be safe I asked Professor Dumbledore and he told me you could sit here with us if you wanted!” She said happily. Harry wanted to share her excitement, he really did, but the thought of Malfoy and what he had planned stayed firmly planted in his brain.

“That’s great!” He replied with feigned enthusiasm. Fake it til you make it, eh?

Ron grinned and raised a glass of pumpkin juice in greeting as Harry sat down next to Hermione. The two quickly engaged in a conversation about the upcoming quidditch season. As much as he loved quidditch, not even that could distract him from his thoughts and he couldn’t help his gaze drifting over to the Slytherin table. He quickly found Malfoy, who seemed to be talking animatedly to Parkinson. He didn’t seem too upset that Harry wasn’t there, which he supposed was good. He wondered vaguely whether his change of seating would affect Malfoy’s plan. Although, he supposed, he would come over to the Gryffindor table if he needed to talk to Harry. 

Harry jumped as he suddenly noticed Hermione’s hand in front of his face, waving back in forth. He blinked, before turning to meet her concerned gaze.

“What?” He said, mentally chastising himself for sounding so dumb and dazed.

“Missing your Slytherin pals already?” Ron asked jokingly, reaching around Hermione to pat him on the back.

“Just zoned out I suppose,” he answered, forcing out a chuckle. 

The rest of dinner passed by in a blur. Harry was dimly award of nodding and laughing in all the right places, but he hadn’t been truly aware throughout the conversation. His nerves were building up as time passed by and nothing happened. 

Finally, dinner was over. It was time to head back to the dorms. Harry resigned himself to the fact that, whether he’d wanted Malfoy to make his little scene or not, it wasn’t going to happen. Harry didn’t know how to feel about that, but he settled on relieved in the end.

As the food vanished from the tables he stood up, Ron and Hermione at his side, ready to head back. They were making their way toward the exit when Harry heard his name being called. He’d know that pretentious voice anywhere.

“Potter!” Malfoy called as he made his way confidently towards them. Loudly, Harry might add. People were stopping in their tracks, ready to watch what they thought would most certainly be a brawl unfold.

Harry turned to face him, as did Ron and Hermione. Malfoy had Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson, and Zabini standing slightly behind him, all eagerly anticipating- well, Harry didn’t know what they were anticipating.

“Malfoy,” Harry responded, acknowledging him a bit belatedly. He could barely speak around his heart, which had apparently decided that Harry’s chest was such a boring place to live and why didn’t make it a break for it and escape through his throat instead. Malfoy, on the other hand, looked cool and calm as anything.

“Well,” Malfoy began, “We weren’t sorted yet the last time I asked this, but you’re Slytherin now so its just practical.”

“Oh no you don’t you git!” Ron interrupted angrily, “There’s no need for you to finish that thought. Harry wants absolutely nothing to do with you!”

Malfoy smiled smugly, “I think you’ll find that isn’t quite the case.”

“I won’t find anything of the sort,” Ron retorted, but Malfoy just kept smiling. 

“Well, Potter, I think you know the question well enough by now. Do you have an answer for me?” He asked, quirking one eyebrow as he held his hand out in front of him. Offering a handshake. Harry heard a sharp intake of breath from Hermione beside him and Ron’s eyes were practically bulging out of his skull. The crowd that had gathered around them had gone dead silent as they collectively held their breaths. 

And Harry froze. Ten seconds passed, then twenty. He doesn’t think he’s breathed once in that whole span of time and it doesn’t seem anyone else has either. Everyone else is frozen too, waiting for Harry to make a move. Ron, especially tense, appears to be on the verge of an aneurysm. 

He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t agree to a friendship with Malfoy right in front of Ron and Hermione, not to mention Seamus, Dean, Neville, Ginny, hell, every other Gryffindor in the crowd. But then he watched Malfoys smile slip, watched the panic and hurt set into his eyes, and was that a bit of betrayal he saw? By the time his hand had faltered and started to lower, Harry was decided.

Before he could convince himself out of it, he summoned all the confidence he possessed, and took a large step forward with a false sort of bravado. He reached forward and gripped Malfoys hand in his, holding it firmly for a moment. The arrogant look had returned to his face, but the clear relief in his eyes made it worth it. Dropping Malfoys hand, he turned to gauge the reaction of the room.

His eyes went right to Ron and Hermione. Ron’s face had gone bright red as he fumed in utter disbelief. Hermione appeared to be quietly choking to death. Suddenly the silent room erupted with sound. There were cheers of victory from many Slytherins while almost everyone else in the room began yelling in rage, at Malfoy and at Harry. 

Just as he was about to be thoroughly overwhelmed, Malfoy grabbed his elbow and pulled him into the midst of the Slytherins. 

Harry had wanted to try and talk to the Gryffindors, Ron especially, to convince them that it wasn’t an act of betrayal. But judging mood of the crowd, they wouldn’t be very receptive to his explanations. So Harry simply let himself be surrounded by Slytherins with Malfoy, so they were effectively shielded from the crowd. He followed along as they began to make their way towards the dungeons as one large group. 

When they were a safe distance from the great hall, they all split up and continued the walk in smaller groups, all taking part in separate conversations. Immediately, Malfoy shoved him sideways, almost hard enough to lose his balance. Harry, startled, looked at him incredulous.

“What? What did I do?” He asked, sounding borderline hysterical. Harry swore to Merlin, after what just happened he would not be able to take it if Malfoy went back to acting like they were rivals.

“I thought you were going to leave me hanging!” Malfoy mumbled sulkily. Harry sighed quietly, choosing to ignore him for now. 

“Git,” Malfoy muttered.


	4. In Which They Talk

Well this certainly hadnt been how Harry had foreseen his life going. It had been a week since Harry had accepted Malfoys handshake and their interactions had been nothing but awkward. Harry knew Malfoy had said they would be friends, but he didn’t feel comfortable treating him that way. It was difficult for him to get over three years of rivalry in one day, and he didn’t think that was very unreasonable. Malfoy seemed to feel the same way, treating Harry not exactly coldly, but as one might treat an acquaintance or someone they had just met.

Harry’s interactions with Ron and Hermione had been far fewer, but they made him feel ten times worse. Hermione would look at him sadly whenever she happened to see him, but refuse to have a conversation with him. But Ron had taken to glaring at him whenever he was in the vicinity, even going so far as to call him a traitor in the harshest of tones. After a while, even that had ceased. Ron had begun treating him like just another Slytherin, and that hurt more than anything else he could have said.

And today, the Slytherins had double potions with the Gryffindors. He sighed to himself as he changed into his robes for the day and attempted to wrestle his hair into some semblance of tame. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could keep his interaction with others to a minimum and simply focus on potions.

But when was he ever lucky?

As he was about to exit the common room into the corridor, Malfoy grabbed his wrist for the second time.

“Potter, this isn’t precisely what I meant when I said we should be friends,” he said, borderline whiny.

“You didn’t think it’d be at all awkward?” Harry asked incredulously, “You thought I’d turn my back on my friends and we’d be the best of pals all overnight?”

“Well, no,” Malfoy admitted, “But I thought by now we’d at least-“

“At least what? At least be teaming up against my friends?” Harry said testily.

“Talk,” finished Malfoy. Harry didn’t reply, “it’s just that I haven’t seen you talk to your Gryfindor friends all week and I thought you would’ve made it up with them by now so you wouldn’t be so cross with me and-“

Malfoy was rambling now. Harry thought this was the least in control he’d ever seen him and for that reason alone he was willing to give him a chance.

“I thought you didn’t like my friends,” Harry challenged.

“Well of course I don’t,” Malfoy responded indignantly, “I just didn’t think they’d turn against you so easily is all. And clearly I was wrong to have even that high of an opinion of them. It seems I’d forgotten that even if you put the bar on the ground, they’ll find some way to make a tunnel underneath it.”

Harry scoffed, but did see where Malfoy was coming from.

“Alright, why did you feel the need to make such a scene then?” Harry asked.

“Because,” Malfoy said in the tone would use when explaining something to a five year old, “You outright rejected me in first year. And I wasn’t going let that stand.”

Harry should have known that Malfoys reasoning would be this childish. But, he reasoned, for a child who’d grown up with almost anything he wanted, a rejection would be a huge blow to his ego. So, Harry could understand wanting to resolve that.

“Ok,” Harry said simply.

“Ok?” Malfoy echoed, “so we’re good?”

“Sure. We’re good,” he responded. Malfoys face immediately lit up in a grin.

“Well, good!” He exclaimed, as if this outcome were the last thing he’d been expecting, “Come on then, or we’ll be late for potions!” 

He tugged Harry through the door and he fell into step beside him as they made their way hurriedly through the dungeons towards their class. All the other Slytherins had left ahead of them, not wanting to be late for class and it occurred to Harry that they could have had this conversation while walking. Oh well. 

They stopped when they arrived at the door to the potions classroom.

“Potter,” Malfoy said, in what was quite possibly the least pretentious voice Harry had ever heard him use, “You can call me Draco. That is, if you want to.”

“Alright, Draco,” Harry smirked, “I will. For a price.”

Draco narrowed his eyes, “What?”

“You’ll have to call me Harry.”

Malf- Draco rolled his eyes and shoved open the door. Only to realize he was now face to face with Snape, who stood waiting for them with one eyebrow raised.

“You’re late,” he said, voice dripping with scorn. They stood there silently, awaiting the punishment they would certainly receive. But Snape simply took a step away from the door and gestured them in, muttering “don’t let it happen again.”

Harry and Draco looked at each other in shock for a moment before shrugging and walking into the classroom. All of the other students were sat at desks, waiting for class to begin. As Harry made his way to what had become his usual place, he saw that him and Draco coming in together had not gone unnoticed by the Gryffindors. Ron appeared to be fuming while Hermione’s face was kept carefully blank as she looked away pointedly. Well, if they didn’t want Harry’s explanation, he wouldn’t give it to them.

Harry settled in next to Draco, ready for what was sure to be a boring lesson based on the plethora of notes written on the board for them to copy down. Snape began his lecture and Harry couldn’t help but zone out immediately. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the end of the lesson, which Harry had been right in assuming would be excruciatingly boring, Draco looked at him in amusement.

“Did you not pay attention to any part of that lesson?” Draco asked, brandishing his full two pages of notes. Harry looked down in surprise, seeing his blank piece of paper. He hadn’t even taken a quill out. Oops.

“Don’t worry, you can copy mine later,” Draco laughed. 

“Thanks,” Harry said, bemused. He wondered if he would ever get used to Draco being nice to him.

He swept all his stuff messily into his bag as Draco was already ready to go. They fell in with the other Slytherins, who had clearly sensed the change in atmosphere between Harry and Draco and had identical smirks on their faces.

Harry didn’t like the eyes on him or the expressions on their faces, so he lifted his chin haughtily at them, attempted to look unconcerned.

“Never thought you’d fit in so well with the snakes, Potter, but you learn something new every day,” Ron said challengingly. Of course he had to have chosen that exact moment to look over at him.

“Ron, it really doesn’t have to be like this, alright?” Harry began. Before he had even finished the sentence, the Slytherins had gathered behind him, looking threatening. Draco stood quietly but menacingly to his right. 

“Be like what, Potter,” Ron spat his name like a curse and the Gryffindors began to gather around him, “I didn’t expect you to side with Malfoy just because you’d gone Slytherin!”

“Gone Slytherin!” Harry sputtered, “The sorting hat PUT me in Slytherin! I didn’t choose it!”

“That’s not the point! The point is that you’d rather hang around with these- these snakes, forgetting your past! We were supposed to be your friends, have you forgotten that? Have you forgotten about your parents and all that these people have done to you?” Ron was yelling now, and being restrained by a couple of older Gryffindors who had noted that he was getting wildly out of control.

Harry was filled with a calm cool sort of rage. Pulling himself up straighter, “No, I hadn’t forgotten my parents thank you very much. But I also haven’t forgotten that it was Voldemort who killed my parents last time I checked, not Draco Malfoy. Now, if that’s all you had to say, I think we’ll be off.”

Harry turned on his heel, not waiting for a response for walking purposefully out the door and down the corridor. Draco followed after him and the rest of the Slytherins came after, exchanging meaningful looks as if if to say ‘well, that happened.’

Draco looked at Harry nervously. Harry supposed he thought the encounter with the Gryffindors had made him angry at him again. Harry smiled sadly at him.

“Sorry about that,” Draco said sheepishly.

“It was only to be expected,” Harry replied, before contemplating how and why this had become his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments on what you thought, I live for them. If you have criticism don’t hesitate to comment that as well, I’m always looking to improve.


	5. In Which We Quidditch

Harry was really starting to dislike Gryffindors. It seemed like he couldn’t go an hour without someone taunting him or trying to goad him into a fight. Draco had told him to ignore it and stay above it all. If they wanted to be childish, that was on them and it needn’t concern Harry. Harry knew he was right, but regardless, it was exhausting to focus on paying attention in his classes AND trying to stay out of fights.

Which was why, Harry thought vaguely as he drifted in and out of consciousness, he was glad it was a Saturday. He didn’t have to wake up to go to breakfast at 7:30 if he didn’t want to. He could sleep in until he really felt rested. Or at least he could, if Draco would give him back his blanket and stop trying to tug him out of bed.

“Harry, get UP! There’s quidditch tryouts today,” Draco said excitedly, dropping Harry’s arm in favor of snatching the pillow out from under his head. Harry sat up suddenly, meeting Draco’s eyes with enthusiasm.

“What’re you waiting for then, let’s fly!” Harry replied, rolling out of bed swiftly.

“Well the tryouts aren’t till later,” Draco amended.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t practice,” Harry said, shooting him a grin.

“Guess not,” Draco replied. 

Hurriedly, they changed into robes suitable for flying and made there way to the common room, brooms in hand.

“Oi,” Blaise Zabini, who Harry really didn’t know aside from his association with Draco, stopped them just as they were about to exit, “flying without me, are we?”

“Sorry, forgot,” Draco said, leaning against the wall to wait. 

“You forgot about lil ol’ me? Not surprising you’d rather fly with Potty here,” He said laughingly. Though Harry could tell the nickname was teasing and not meant to be as harsh as some other people he knew would have intended it to be.

Draco shrugged smirking as he looked from Blaise to Harry and back.

“Alright let me just grab my broom,” he left the room briefly and returned with both a broom and a Pansy Parkinson in tow.

“I’m coming to watch,” she stated matter of factly. Draco shrugged for the second time and grabbed Harry’s arm to tug him out the door after him.

They headed towards the quidditch pitch as a group, chatting rather pleasantly. It amused Harry to think that he had once thought of these people as inhuman and inherently unlikeable. Now they seem like people who would be good to know and he thought he would be lucky to count them among his friends.

Harry my darling, Draco my sweet,” Blaise drawled suddenly, “you do realize that there can only be one seeker. Correct me if I’m wrong but I could swear that I see two of you.”

Harry and Draco looked at each other in sudden anxiousness. Suddenly, Harry smirked. 

“Seekers game, best of three. Winner tries out for the position. The loser can try for, I don’t know chaser. Something different,” Harry suggested. Draco smirked right back at him.

“You’re on,” Draco said, and they shook hands for the second time in their lives.

“Don’t try out for chaser,” Blaise muttered, “we have good chasers. Including ME.” He was, of course, ignored.

Once they arrived on the pitch, Pansy placed down the container she had been carrying which contained the different quidditch balls. She opened it and tossed Blaise a quaffle which he immediately carried over to the goalposts, presumably to practice. She then pulled out the snitch, holding it carefully between her thumb and forefinger.

“I’ll ref. Get ready boys,” she said before releasing the snitch with a casual movement of her hand and sat back to watch the game commence. 

Harry and Draco looked at each other for a moment, startled, before almost simultaneously coming to their senses and hurtling into the sky. Harry ignored Draco at first, scanning the pitch thoroughly. When he didn’t catch a glimpse of anything gold, he turned back to Draco. That was when he saw it. The snitch was hovering about ten feet below Draco. Harry drifted casually towards him, trying to make his movements look unintentional, but Draco quickly picked up on what he was doing. Harry gave up his strategy and dove suddenly for the snitch, arm stretched out desperately. Draco copied his motion and soon they were both hurtling downwards side by side. In the end, Harry was just a hair further ahead and was able to snatch the little golden ball practically right out of Draco’s fingers. Triumphantly, he landed and delivered the snitch back to Pansy who accepted it impassively.

Draco landed a moment after him, “Not bad,” he said huffily. 

“Not too bad yourself,” Harry said, companionably bumping Draco’s shoulder. 

Pansy released the snitch for a second time. Harry and Draco shot off again, more prepared this time. Harry began scanning the pitch again when something caught his eye. It wasn’t the glint of gold that would signify a sighting of the snitch, but the soft glow of the morning sun on Draco’s hair. Harry hadn’t realized that it’s platinum blond color would make it so luminous in the light. He found himself mesmerized, his gaze lowering from his hair to his chiseled face. Draco, thinking Harry had spotted the snitch behind him, quickly swiveled around. He turned in confusion when it was made clear that wasn’t the case. 

However, Harry wasn’t currently in a state to answer any questions he might have had because as it turned out he was busy falling at the moment. His broom was casually floating around above him, uncaring that he was about to hit the ground and probably be seriously injured. What loyalty it had. Harry closed his eyes tightly and prepared for impact. But it never came. He was suddenly grabbed by the top of his robes from above and gently placed on the ground. He opened his eyes, standing on wobbly legs and turned to face Draco. Blaise landed next to them and handed Harry his broom with a sort of odd smirk on his face, clearly not knowing what was going on. Frankly, Harry didn’t know either. He watched Pansy Accio the snitch and place it carefully back into the case. She gave him a knowing look as he carefully avoided looking at Draco.

“What was that, Harry?” Draco asked finally, sounding concerned.

“Oh, uh. Nothing,” Harry said quickly.

“Nothing is the reason you suddenly blanked out and then fell off your broom?” Draco asked, sounding a bit concerned.

“Yeah that about sums it up,” said Harry before all but running back to the castle. 

“I’m calling this a draw,” Harry heard Pansy yell from behind him.

As Harry burst into through the doors into the building, he realized they still hadn’t decided which of them would try for seeker. Oh well. He supposed they would decide at the tryouts themselves. 

The tryouts! Harry was an idiot. They had met on the pitch only an hour before the tryouts, just enough time to get in some practice before it really counted. Now Harry had to turn right back around and go back to the pitch if he wanted to get there on time. Sighing, he turned on his heel and stomped sulkily back the way he had come.

When he arrived back on the pitch, the Slytherins were lined up with Flint pacing up and down in front of them, apparently giving some sort of speech. Harry slid subtly in next to Draco, who gave him a look but thankfully didn’t ask any questions.

Now Flint was asking what position each person would be going for. 

“Chaser,” came Blaise’s confident voice from next to Draco. 

“Seeker,” said Draco and Harry simultaneously. Flint raised an eyebrow. 

“You know only one of you can-“ Flint began.

“Yeah, yeah. We know,” Harry sighed, “chaser.” Flints eyebrow shot even further upwards, but he just nodded and moved on. Blaise was not so silent as Harry could hear the whispered stream of curses from beside Draco. Draco looked at Harry, pleased but extremely shocked.

“You gave up the position for me. But you’re really good,” Draco not quite protested.

“Yeah, well so are you,” Harry responded, awkwardly shuffling his feet. Draco just looked at him for a second longer, still seemingly in disbelief, before turning his attention back to Flint. 

As the tryouts progressed, Harry soon realized that although he did prefer seeking, chasing came just as naturally to him. After all, no matter the position, flying was flying. 

When tryouts were complete, Flint had decided who would fill what position. Harry still didn’t know many Slytherins by name, but he did know that he and Blaise were the chasers, having beat out the others competing for the same spot. Draco was of course the seeker, no one else having had any chance of taking that spot aside from Harry. 

Even though Harry didn’t yet know his other teammates, they all seemed well suited to their positions. With wide set beaters and an agile looking keeper, Harry thought they had an almost certain chance of victory. Harry hadn’t been sure he would play quidditch at all this year after being resorted, but looking around at Draco and his other teammates, he had to smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of Harry falling off his broom watching Draco came from a line in another fic I remember reading, but I can’t find it. So if you happen to know which one I mean please let me know so I can credit it.


	6. In Which We Meet the Goblet of Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took some lines straight from the movie and the book, please don’t kill me for it lol

Harry was seated between Draco and Pansy in the great hall, waiting on Dumbledore to make his speech. The students from Beaxbatons and Durmstrang had arrived recently at the school and they too were assembled for the ceremony. The goblet of fire was about to select champions for the Triwizard Tournament. 

He and Draco were currently chuckling at something Pansy had said about Gryffindors trying to sneak their name into the goblet. Harry was glad that he was finally growing closer to her as she had been one of the least approachable Slytherins.

Now Dumbledore was standing up to give his speech. He stood right in the center of the room, demanding attention. He dramatically raised a hand and drew it slowly through the air over each group of students in turn. Draco raised an eyebrow and seemed to be holding back laughter. Harry was inclined to agree that Dumbledore was probably being a bit more theatrical than strictly necessary. 

Finally, his hand came to a stop pointing at the flame. It’s light blue color jumped quickly to red with a crackle and Dumbledore seemed to wince a bit. A burnt piece of parchment emerged and floated through the air and towards Dumbledore, who quickly snatched it. Opening it, he read, “The Durmstrang champion is Viktor Krum!”

The Durmstrang students burst into raucous cheering and Harry and the rest remained still, watching him step forward to shake Dumbledore’s hand.

Turning back to the burning goblet, Dumbledore caught a second piece of parchment. 

“The champion for Beauxbatons,” he read, “is Fleur Delacour!” The smiling blond stood and shook Dumbledore’s hand as Krum had and followed in his footsteps. 

Dumbledore caught one last parchment from the flame and opened it quickly.

“The Hogwarts champion,” he stopped suddenly, eyes widening as he peered down at the paper, “is Draco Malfoy,” he said finally, questioningly. Draco sat, shell shocked. Harry knew for a fact he hadn’t put his name in the goblet, they had just been joking about how only an idiot Gryffindor would do that. Draco looked at him apprehensively, so Harry gave him a little nudge forward. Draco stood hesitantly and made his way towards Dumbledore, who simply looked at him, not offering a handshake like he had with the others. Draco lifted his chin in a facade of self importance and spun on his heel, following the other champions out at a brisk walk. The crowd gawked silently, Harry included. 

“Well,” Dumbledore began, “we now have our three champions. But in the end, only one will go down in history, only one will hoist this chalice of champions, this vessel of victory, the Triwizard Cup!” He turned, dramatically revealing the cup that had been hidden under a sheet. 

Suddenly the goblet fizzled back to life, catching everyone’s attention. After a moment of quiet crackling, one more piece of parchment flew out and gently floated through the air towards Dumbledore. Dumbledore closed his hand around it automatically and looked down at his hand in shock. Unfolding the paper, he looked down at the words on it.

“Harry Potter,” he muttered as people craned forward to hear. “Harry Potter,” he said again more loudly. Now it was his turned to be shoved to his feet, this time by Pansy, who was just looking at him. Uncomfortable under all the eyes, Harry got to his feet, almost stumbling with nervousness and made his way down to Dumbledore. He met Dumbledore’s eyes as he passed, and quickly turned away in the direction Draco had gone. Suddenly remembering Draco’s advice to ignore everyone else and be above it all, he pulled himself up straighter and kept walking, face held carefully blank, ignoring the jeers and protests that were starting to build up from the crowd. 

He stepped into the room designated for the champions with a sigh of relief, shutting the door behind him. The other champions were all seated on couches seemingly deep in discussion. Krum and Delacour seemed to be interrogating Draco on how he had gotten his name into the goblet, but he just sat quietly not responding to their questions. Harry strode in and sat next to Draco calmly. There was silence for a moment as everyone seemingly took this in.

“Ah, two underage Slytherins, okay,” Delacour said finally, voice full of hostility. Harry and Draco bristled defensively.

“Alright,” said Krum, “I don’t suppose you’ll tell us how you got your names in,” he was focused on Harry.

“We didn’t,” he responded. 

“Right, yeah that’s what he’s saying. But it isn’t true now is it?” He said, leaning forward slightly.

“Yes it is true!” Harry retorted.

Suddenly in burst Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall as well as the two headmasters of the other competing schools and two members of the Ministry Harry didn’t recognize. They began arguing amongst themselves about have two Hogwarts champions, both of whom were underage.

“I didn’t put our names in,” Harry whispered to Draco, feeling the need to make that clear.

“Well, neither did I,” Draco hissed back, watching the scene unfolding in front of them.

“It’s no ones fault but theirs,” Snape said softly, “Don’t go blaming Dumbledore for their determination to break rules. Potter especially has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here-“

“Thank you Severus,” Dumbledore said, effectively silencing him, “Draco, Harry, did you put your names into the Goblet of Fire.”

“No,” the both said.

“Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?” Dumbledore asked.

“No!” The said again.

“Alright,” Dumbledore said, narrowing his eyes at them, “You’re aware that you are a part of a binding magical contract requiring you to compete in the tournament?” 

“I guess,” said Harry while Draco nodded hesitantly. The other headmasters in the room scoffed unhappily.

Suddenly a sound was heard from over by the door. Mad Eye Moody had entered the room.

“Harry can’t possibly compete,” he said, totally ignoring Draco, “Don’t you see, it would’ve taken an incredibly strong witch or wizard to Confundus that goblet into thinking more than three schools were competing.”

“Why would someone do that, Professor,” McGonagall asked skeptically.

“Why, to get him killed of course!” He exclaimed.

“We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn’t discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime. Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination too,” Durmstrangs head master, Karkaroff, scoffed. Dumbledore sighed slightly but ignored him.

“How this situation arose, we do not know,” Dumbledore said, “it seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Draco and Harry have been chosen to compete in the tournament. This therefore, they will do.”

The others in the room appeared livid, but offered no alternative. Dumbledore gestured to Barty Crouch to speak of the tournament.

“The first task is designed to test your daring,” he told the champions, “so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard, very important. The first task will take place on November the 24th in front of the other students and the panel of judges. The champions may not receive outside help and are to be armed only with their wands. They will receive information on the second task is over. Owing to the demanding and time consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end of year tests. I think that’s all,” he finished, looking around. The other adults in the room nodded. 

Harry looked at Draco, whose face mirrored his own expression of lingering shock and disbelief. After being dismissed, they stood quickly and began to make their way back to the dungeons.

“Do you think anyone will believe we didn’t put our names in ourselves?” Harry asked Draco uncertainly. 

“Sure,” Draco said sounding confident, “at least most of the Slytherins will, and that’s all the really matters, right?” Harry nodded. They walked down to the dungeons through the empty corridors. 

Once they reached the closed door Draco stopped for a moment. He looked at Harry, suddenly seeming rather unsure of himself.

“Hey, Harry,” he began quietly, “We are in this together, right?”

Harry grabbed his arm reassuringly and said, “Of course we are, Draco.” Draco smiled, clearly relieved, before mustering up his confident demeanor again. 

“Right then,” he said as he and Harry grinned at each other, “let’s do this.” 

He pushed open the door to reveal the Slytherins gathered inside. 

“Let’s,” he replied before stepping in with Draco to face them.


	7. In Which STUFF goes DOWN

Harry took one last deep breath before stepping into the crowded common room, Draco by his side. Inside was a sea of blank faces. Draco closed the door behind them and for a moment there was silence.

Then the room erupted into sound. No was jeering or booing, to Harry’s surprise. He had thought that they would be angry that not one but two of them had entered the tournament without even letting the rest of them know. But instead, they all just seemed a mixture of curious and pleased that their house had a chance of winning some honor.

Exchanging relieved glances with Draco, he stepped inside and steeled himself to answer some questions.

As soon as they were through the doorway, the other Slytherins all but swarmed them, coming in close, determined to hear what they had to say. Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye that Greg Goyle and Vince Crabbe were plowing through the crowds with Pansy and Blaise in tow. Once they had successfully got them to the front of the crowd, they promptly took a step back to let the conversation take place. 

“You could have at least told us beforehand,” Blaise said, Pansy standing by making a face with her hand on her hip.

“We didn’t-“ Harry began.

“Doesn’t really matter though,” Pansy said, “Slytherins got two bites at the apple now, couldn’t ask for much more than that.” Blaise looked at her, looking betrayed.

“What, I don’t see you or me being very keen to compete in the tournament. At least our friends are doing it and one them might win,” Pansy said defensively. Blaise tolled his eyes, but conceded.

“Alright then. At least tell us how you did it,” Blaise ordered, leaning forward slightly. 

“We didn’t-“ Harry began for the second time.

“Hey, none of that now,” Pansy admonished.

“No, really, it wasn’t us,” Draco interjected. Pansy huffed, clearly not believing him, but didn’t bother to continue the interrogation.

“I guess there’s only one thing for it then,” Pansy said, “we CELEBRATE!” She turned to face the crowd, dragging Harry and Draco with her. She grabbed one of each of their hands and raised them up, as if declaring a winner. The common room erupted with sound for the second time that night.

Blaise suddenly took initiative and started bossing around the first years, having them fetch food from the kitchen, move the couches, and other necessary tasks.

Before they knew it, the common room had turned into a full on party. A butter beer was shoved into Harry and Draco’s hands and they were quickly pulled into the crowd, dancing, conversing, and generally hanging out.

Harry tried to stick by Draco as much as he could, and Draco didn’t seem to mind much. Often, when one or the other wanted to move locations, either to grab some food or talk to a new group of people, they would grab the others sleeve and tug them right along with them. 

As the night progressed, people began to grow more and more tired. This resulted in most people either heading off to bed or starting to act very overtired.

That might have explained why, when their numbers were down to Harry, Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Greg, Vince, and a few older students Harry didn’t know by name, Pansy suddenly called out “Truth or dare!”

Agreeably, everyone shuffled their way to the center of the room where they sat on the ground in a rough sort of circle.

“Are we ready to start?” Pansy asked excitedly.

“Wait,” a sixth year boy said, pulling a vial out of his pocket smugly, “Veritaserum for the truths. Everyone spike your butterbeer,” he ordered, making a show of putting a few drops in his. The bottle was passed around the circle, everyone complying without complaint.

Most of the beginning truths and dares were pretty tame, with a few exciting moments such as Greg having to lick the door handle on the outside of Snapes office door. At another point almost all of the girls admitted to having, at some point or other, crushed on Blaise, who positively preened under the attention. 

Harry had been getting off pretty lightly every time his turn rolled around, but he knew that couldn’t last forever, not playing with Slytherins anyway. 

Blaise had chosen Harry at one point, possibly hoping to out him, asking, “Do you regret being sorted into Slytherin?”

“Not at all,” Harry was relieved that he was able to say. And it hadn’t been a lie. Well of course not, he was under the influence of veritaserum. But really, he was glad to have been shown how shallow the friendship of the Gryffindors was and was happy that this didn’t seem to be the case in Slytherin.

Soon, it had reached one in the morning and almost everyone had left the common room in favor of the dorms. The only ones left were himself, Draco, Pansy, and Blaise. Also referred to as “the squad” by Pansy when she commented on who was still awake.

“Pansy,” Draco said, sprawling himself over the floor, head dangerously close to Harry’s legs, “truth or dare.”

“Dare,” she said swiftly.

“Ok,” Draco’s eyes narrowed, “kiss Blaise.” Harry’s eyes widened but Pansy merely chuckled. She leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to Blaise’s lips before wiping her lips in mock disgust. Blaise struck a theatrically wounded pose, and Pansy turned back to Draco.

“Draco, truth or dare,” she said with a wicked gleam in her eye. Draco looked nervous and Harry didn’t blame him one bit.

“Er, truth,” he said hesitantly. Pansy smirked triumphantly. 

“How did you get your name in the Goblet of Fire?” She asked pleasantly. Draco sighed in relief and met her gaze.

“I didn’t,” he said, as if talking to a child.

“Oh. YOU didn’t,” she said meaningfully, “so Harry here must have done it for both of you. And why wouldn’t he tell anyone else about it?” 

“Maybe he fancies him,” Blaise said matter of factly. Everyone stared at him for a second before he burst out laughing. Realizing it was a joke, everyone else joined in the laughter. The late hour must have really been getting to them, Harry thought, because they were all rolling around and laughing hysterically at a joke that really hadn’t warranted such a large reaction.

Pansy turned to look at him, tears of mirth streaming down her face, “So what do you reckon, Harry. D’you fancy Draco here?”

Suddenly Harry wasn’t laughing anymore. He scoffed. Of course he didn’t like Draco, not in that way at least. Yes, they were getting closer then he had ever thought was possible. Yes, he was beautiful all the way from his light blond hair to his expensively shoed feet. And yes, Harry could sit and just listen to his voice for hours and sure he’d fallen off his broom because he’d gotten distracted by his chiseled face. But that absolutely did not mean he fancied him. He was not gay! 

Since Harry absolutely did not fancy Draco, he wasn’t quite sure why he felt the veritaserum kicking in. Wasn’t sure why his vehement denials were unable to pass through his lips.

The others had stopped laughing by now and simply watched in bemusement as Harry struggled heartily to say one simple word in the negative. He felt his face slowly heat up, both with embarrassment and with the effort of keeping himself quiet. He had given up trying to deny it and merely settled for try not to affirm it. 

He could feel the shift in the atmosphere as soon as it was made clear that his resolve was weakening. His three companions leaned towards him waiting to see what he would say.

“Yes,” He said, barely above a whisper. That hadn’t been so bad, he thought meekly. He wasn’t sure anyone had even heard him. Looking up, he knew there was no chance of that scenario. Draco looked utterly shocked while Pansy and Blaise were chuckling as if they thought Harry was joking.

“Ok, Harry. Your veritaserums worn off and your having us on,” Draco said, “very funny.”

“No it hasn’t,” Pansy objected, “We still can’t lie.”

Blaise looked thoughtful, “Alright say it again Harry. As a sentence, don’t just say yes.”

Harry sighed, “Yes. I fancy Draco, happy?” 

When no one spoke for a moment he got unsteadily to his feet and made to run out of the common room before he had to witness the facial expressions of his housemates. But Pansy grabbed his sleeve to stop him. Harry frowned at her as she appeared to be silently wheezing.

“I’m sorry, but this is just too good,” she said.

Draco looked at her, seeming wounded and betrayed.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, “But Draco’s been obsessed with you since first year, Harry. He’s probably been dreaming of this moment ever since then if we’re being honest.” 

Harry and Draco met each other’s eyes, both going beet red.

“Have not,” said Draco.

“I doubt it,” said Harry at the same time.

“Come on, Draco, you’ve hardly talked about anything else since you met him, it’s been getting on our nerves to be quite honest with you,” Pansy stated. 

“I don’t know about that, but I think I need to go,” Harry said, wrenching his arm free of Pansy’s grip and stumbling frantically towards his dorm room.

The last thing Harry heard before he closed the door was Pansy and Draco arguing about whether Draco should tell Harry that he fancied him back.

Harry flopped dejectedly onto his bed. For Merlin’s sake, Draco could tell Harry he was disgusting and he’d rather kiss the giant squid or he could serenade him with love songs and neither scenario would affect him in any way because he, Harry, was NOT gay!


	8. Chapter 8

Harry groaned in defiance and displeasure as Draco tried to get him out of bed.

It had been almost a week since what Harry liked to refer to as “the Incident”. Harry had refused to acknowledge the event afterwards, not wanting to disrupt the rhythm his life had taken on any further.

At breakfast the day after, he had shown up and sat next to Draco as usual, as if nothing had happened.

“About yesterday,” Draco had begun, before Harry cut him off with fake enthusiasm.

“No need to talk about that, I’m sure the veritaserum was faulty or something,” He beamed at Draco before snatching himself a bit of bacon of Draco’s plate. Draco looked caught between a scowl at the lost food and something... else that Harry couldn’t quite identify.

There had also been some light teasing from Pansy and Blaise whenever they caught sight of him and Draco together, but Harry could deal with that so long as neither of them attempted to start a serious conversation about it. 

What he couldn’t deal with was Draco trying to get him out of bed at such an absurd hour of the night. It wasn’t even late enough into the night for the sky to be lightening, let alone for Harry to be getting up for breakfast.

With one last groan of complaint, Harry sat up and eyed Draco angrily.

“What?” He asked testily. Draco simply smirked a little at Harry’s obvious displeasure and tossed him his glasses from the nightstand. Catching them instinctively, he pushed them ungracefully onto his face and said again, “What?”

“Get up and I’ll show you,” Draco said, lifting one eyebrow. Harry just stared at him for a second before rolling out of bed and reaching automatically for his wand, which he stuffed into his pants pocket.

“Are we leaving the dorms for this?” He asked. Draco nodded. 

“Yeah, why?” Harry just grinned before reaching towards his trunk. He rummaged around for a moment before triumphantly pulling out his invisibility cloak with a flourish. Draco looked impressed for a moment before his eyes narrowed.

“That what you used in Hogsmeade last year to try and humiliate us?” Draco asked accusingly.

“Well, er. Yes?” Harry said sheepishly. Draco just rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

“Well come on then, let’s go,” he said, pulling the cloak out of Harry’s hands and throwing it over them in one motion. Now it was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes, at Draco’s bossiness, but he let himself be pulled along behind him.

Harry wondered what their destination was as they travelled up stairs and through corridors, but he had the sense not to blow their cover by asking out loud. Soon they arrived at an exit. Harry was even more confused as they made their way through the grounds and towards the Forbidden Forest. Why would Draco be taking him here? Draco, though Harry knew he would never admit to it, was terrified of what lurked in the Forbidden Forest. But now, looking into his eyes, Harry saw a sparkle of excitement rather than fear.

That’s when Harry caught sight of Karkaroff lurking around the edge of the forest. He gasped lightly as he was joined after a moment by the larger frame of Madame Maxime. After a moment of discussion, they set off together into the dark trees. Draco gave him a knowing look and dragged Harry onwards after them.

Harry was beginning to grow nervous as they passed the point where he could no longer see the light from Hogwarts grounds- and then walked further. He was starting to question why he had let Draco drag him somewhere in the middle of the night without telling him where it was they were going in the first place.

But then there was a sudden flash of red light ahead of them as well as the sound of multiple wizards shouting spells. So of course this reassured Harry all the more. When Karkaroff and Madame Maxime stopped and hid behind a group of trees, Harry started to slow down. But Draco just kept pulling him, still cloak covered, into the middle of the clearing.

Harry was met with the sight of a huge dragon in an enclosure, thrashing wildly and spewing fire at random as wizard attempted to stun it into submission. Harry looked at Draco, questioning and mildly horrified. 

“I may have overheard a little conversation between these two,” he whispered, gesturing towards the two headmasters, who stood staring in shock, “which I suppose means that these dragons are to be the first task.”

“Dragons,” Harry muttered wonderingly. Harry’s attention travelled from the wizards to the dragon to the egg it appeared to be protecting. It looked golden and very synthetic. Maybe they would have to get the egg from the dragon, he mused.

Whether or not that was true, Harry thought it was high time they got out of there. They’d seen what they’d come to see. He grabbed Draco’s arm and gave him a little tug and before long they were striding back towards the castle. 

“Had it occurred to you that we’re cheating by finding out what the first task is ahead of time?” Harry asked suddenly.

“We’re not cheating. They only said that they wouldn’t tell us not that we couldn’t find out for ourselves,” Draco said defensively, “besides, those two were obviously going to tell Krum and Delacour, so I’d say we’re just evening the playing field.”

Harry shrugged in assent and they made their way back to the common room. Once they were back in the dorms, Harry grabbed the cloak and stuffed it away unceremoniously. Glaring at Draco, he realized that the sun had come up and it was now time for breakfast. Draco merely smirked and raised his hands in mock surrender. 

After they had both changed into their robes, they headed into the common room and were met with Blaise and Pansy aggressively hurling spells at what seemed to be the ground.

“Erm,” Harry said, effectively if not elequently catching their attention.

Blaise looked up at Harry before silently tossing him a pin out of a pile of similar ones on the ground.

It read: “Support Viktor and Fleur- the real Triwizard champions”

Harry scoffed and showed it to Draco, who reacted similarly.

“I know,” Pansy said sympathetically, “we took these out of the puny hands of a few first year Gryffindors who had taken it upon themselves to distribute these. All the other houses are wearing them.”

“So you’re hexing the pins?” Draco asked.

“Don’t be daft Draco, we’re changing the words,” Blaise said, tossing Draco a second pin. 

He caught it and read: “Support Draco and Harry- the Hogwarts Triwizard champions”

“Thanks guys,” Harry said, reading it over Draco’s shoulders.

“Don’t mention it,” said Blaise, “but go to breakfast and see them all for yourselves. We’ve already been.” He gestured at the door, hurrying Harry and Draco on their way.

Quickly, they stepped out into the corridor and made their way to the great hall for breakfast. Harry and Draco wore identical scowls as they made their way across the room to the Slytherin tables, glaring at the sea of pin wearing students they faced. Fortunately, there didn’t seem to be any pinned Slytherins, although none of the other houses could say the same. 

As they took their seats, the two of them remembered themselves almost simultaneously and sat up a little straighter, adjusting their facial expressions to seem indifferent. They quickly placed food onto their plates before it could disappear and began picking at it.

“They really weren’t kidding,” Harry said scanning the crowd.

“Course not, but let’s focus on what’s more important. The dragons,” Draco insisted.

“Alright,” Harry began, “We need to get the golden eggs from them, presumably one at a time. And we’ve got to do it in a way that appears impressive in order to get good scores from the judges.”

Draco blinked.

“Any suggestions?” Harry asked.

“No,” Draco admitted.

“I figured we could research some spells that might affect a dragon after classes today,” Harry suggested, stealing one of Draco’s pieces of bacon. Draco nodded and then sighed.

“Why are you always stealing my bacon?” He whined suddenly. Harry looked at him, amused, as he pointedly took a bite of said bacon.

“Dunno,” He said finally, “yours tastes better.”

Draco huffed and snatched a piece of toast from Harry’s plate in retaliation. Harry watched him exclaim indignantly at its over buttered state and toss the offending piece of bread back onto Harry’s plate. Harry picked it up and ate it with a smirk, thinking breakfast with Draco everyday was something he could get used to.


End file.
